


Tomb of the Foolhardy

by lemonsqueezy



Category: Genderbent - Fandom, Supernatural, Tomb Raider (Video Game), deancas - Fandom, destiel - Fandom, genderbent!cas, genderbent!dean
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-15
Updated: 2014-05-15
Packaged: 2018-01-24 20:50:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1616630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonsqueezy/pseuds/lemonsqueezy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destiel Tomb Raider!AU. (I know.) Deanna Croft: archaeologist, explorer, liberator of priceless artifacts and collapser of corrupt corporations and the occasional cult is rescued from certain death by Castiel, a mysterious woman wearing a trenchcoat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomb of the Foolhardy

Deanna clung to the wall by will alone, bleeding fingers clawing desperately at the unforgiving rock, lungs burning from the strain of resting her entire bodyweight on fingertips. Her usually-impeccable instincts seemed to finally be failing her, Deanna’s mind raced and her eyes darted for some way to hoist herself up onto a nearby ledge, but she came up blank again. Stupid, stupid Dean, dying in some rotten empty tomb like a rat, stupid, stupid, dumbass idiot moron, this place is called the Tomb of the Foolhardy for a reason you twit- The primal part of Deanna, the part that had kept her alive all these years, cut off the rambling barrage of insults and tried once more to find a solution. You’re going to have to pull yourself up. Downwards is a probably-fatal drop into churning waters full of debris and rocks, the sides are too wet to grip. Up is the only way out.

Deanna allowed herself to groan audibly at this prospect. It was impossible, she knew. She saw the images play out in her head; Deanna uses her last vestiges of strength to swing up, her hand grips the ledge, she moves to pull herself up and the wound on her stomach rips open, she falters and falls to her death, where she will not be found. But Crofts don’t give up. And if they do give up, it’s not without making a bloody go at it. Deanna prepared herself to move, when an open hand shot out over the ledge, reaching for Deanna.

“Take my hand. Quickly.” Before she could think about it, Deanna grasped the stranger’s hand and was hoisted up over the waterfall, and lay gasping at the stranger’s feet. She tried to get up but passed out before she could say a word.

“Stop moving. You’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.” Cool hands moved over Deanna’s stomach, and she slowly became aware that she was no longer stuck on a rock wall, but lying on a grassy verge somewhere. The piercing whine in her ears faded to the now-distant thundering of the waterfall she’d apparently escaped and she opened her eyes. Hovering over her, with a safety pin between her teeth, was a dark-haired woman with strikingly blue eyes.

“What?” Her rescuer huffed.

“Stop moving. I cannot bandage this wound if you continue to writhe.”

“What?” The woman’s eyes flicked to Deanna’s head.

“You do not have a head wound. Concussion seems…unlikely. Does your head ache?”

“No. How…where am I?” Deanna’s eyes struggled to focus in the sunlight as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. “Did you pull me up? How did I get here? Where is your group?”

“You ask a lot of questions, even for a human. Yes; I carried you; I have no group. I am alone.”

“You carried me? You’re too small to lift me, let alone carry me…however many feet. What’s going on? Why is my shirt-agh!” Deanna cried out as she felt a painful tug on her stomach.

“My apologies. It’s done. Your shirt is here.” The dark-haired girl sat back on her haunches and held out Deanna’s shirt, which was so tattered from her recent ordeal that Deanna contemplated the effectiveness of even putting it back on. She stood up, having decided to put on the shirt anyway, and looked around. She stood on a grass-covered cliff overlooking the Tormented Lake, the entrance to the tomb she had been exploring a few feet away. After scanning the area briefly, she turned back to the girl, finding that she was, indeed, alone. The girl rose slowly, staring at Deanna, who stared back. Deanna inspected the girl. Wildly curly black hair framed the fine bones of her face, those blue eyes standing out in a deadpan stare that for some reason amused Deanna no end. She wore what might have once been a fashionable man’s suit, which was almost as bedraggled as Deanna’s own attire, and trenchcoat that reached to her calves. The girl was dirty, her hair unbrushed, and her clothes oversized, unwashed, and completely inappropriate considering the tropical weather. Deanna thought she was the most beautiful creature she’d ever seen. And she’d seen a lot of beautiful creatures. As she was admiring the woman, however, she stopped staring and started to walk away.

“Where the hell are you going?” Deanna’s voice was the indignant voice of the spoiled posh girl she used to be, irritated that a new toy was being taken away. “You can’t save a girl’s life, patch her up, and stalk away like it’s no big deal!”

“Why not?”

“Because you…can’t.”

“That’s not a very sound argument.” The girl started to walk away again. Deanna jogged to her side, and kept pace with the girl’s surprisingly large stride.

“Not without a name, at least.”

“Castiel.”

“Pardon?”

“My name. You can call me Castiel.”

“That’s a strange name. Although my name is Deanna so I’m not really one to talk.” Her attempt at humour seemed to fall on deaf ears, and the dark-haired girl continued walking without so much as a smirk. Frustrated that her charm was failing, Deanna opted for a more physical approach, and grabbed the girl’s arm, pulling her around so they were face to face.

“Look, where I come from, knights in shining armour are rewarded. Hang on, that makes me the damsel…metaphors aside, I think you owe me an explanation, and I owe you a very large drink.” As Castiel opened her mouth to respond, a bullet whizzed by Deanna’s ear and sunk into Castiel’s arm, who simply gave it a quizzical look before raising her gaze over Deanna’s shoulder.

“There she is! I’ve found her! Hand me a mag-” Men’s shouts and the sound of guns being cocked spurred Deanna into action, and she pulled Castiel behind a nearby rock.

“Shit. Shit shit shit. Don’t suppose you’ve got a gun or six stashed away in that trenchcoat of yours?”

“No.”

“Shit. I’ll surrender myself to them while you run. Quickly-”

“Or we could just leave.”

“What? No way, without a distraction they’d shoot us down for sure. How’s your arm? Can you run?”

Instead of answering Castiel placed her hand on Deanna’s shoulder.

“You may want to close your eyes. I’ve heard this can be disorienting.” The surroundings changed from cliffside to roadside instantaneously, and Castiel pulled Deanna out of the path of a speeding truck.

“I’ve seen a lot of strange things, Castiel, but I’ve never seen anything quite like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> First published on my tumblr, thought I'd put it up here should I choose to continue it. The premise is hilariously convoluted I realise, but it was for a friend's prompt (she has very specific needs).   
> -K


End file.
